Twenty Four Blackbirds
by Celia
Summary: As a result of the battle of the egos, Raven takes a dare that lands him with a week to get from point A to point B, or suffer seven days as Reese's newest slave. Now running for his life in a second-rate zoid, he realizes he's got the wrong girl.
1. Sing a song of sixpence, pocket full of ...

Chapter 1

  
  


It was just a ridiculous idea. 

A ridiculous idea that just happened to stick. And sticky ideas lead to sticky situations.

And this was how Raven had found himself careening down the side of one of the many conveniently located mesas' surrounding Dragon's Head base, at about midnight on a Tuesday. A sticky situation to say the least.

Boots slipping on the loose rocks, he clamored like a spider monkey, making a valiant effort to slide down the vertical hillside without splattering all over the desert below. This was a feat that seemed a whole lot easier in an old western than it was in real life, and Raven was silently thanking the thick gloves that he'd worn on a whim that night. He liked his skin, thank you very much, and wasn't planning on surrendering it to the ragged jaws of the mesa's cliff any time soon. Eventually, the bone-jarring slide slowed to an all but graceful stop, causing the evil sadistic boy to roll a bit before finally being stopped by a few bushes and a rock. Growling obscene things under his breath about Reese's mother, (if she even had one), he rubbed his sore arms and rapidly darkening bruises. Still muttering, he picked himself up, not even bothering to dust off the thick coat of reddish mud clinging to his never-changing uniform. 

Shadow was thoroughly enjoying his master's discomfort, icy eyes gleaming with mirth. Even Raven's acid glare couldn't dull the organoid's good mood this night. Ah yes, he had been sure to warn Raven of the uncharacteristic stupidity of this particular idea, but as usual, Raven had to 'run into a few walls' first before learning the error of his ways. Right now, he was on a dead-end collision course with the side of the Grand Canyon, which suited Shadow just fine. 

"Okay, so that could have gone better."

Shadow gave a typical 'Grr' before turning his reptilian head towards the base. There was a gentle breeze, an omen of the more turbulent winds in the sky. It was a good night for flying…

Raven frowned, still gripping his bad arm, "Stupid Mother Nature and her crazy ideas…Why did she have to put a cliff here? I'm gonna enjoy blowing this whole thing sky high when this is over."

Shadow resisted the urge to roll his eyes, growling before trotting on. If they were going to follow through with this suicidal idea, then by Zi they were going to do it right. And on his time too. The mission was cutting in on the black dragon's napping hours, and a tired organoid is a homicidal one. 

Raven followed Shadow quietly, still wondering what it was that he did to deserve this. Oh yeah, now he remembered: he didn't follow his instincts and start running when he saw the scary man in red and his even freakier girl-friend! Shaking his head, dislodging dirt clods and what looked suspiciously like a June bug, he followed Shadow onward, reminiscing about the events that had led up to this unholy night…

Reese grinned at the suicidal look on Raven's face. Oh how she loved getting on his nerves! The adorable way he'd curse her to the high heavens, the charming death glare, and above all, the way his trigger-happy hand would stray to the Luger at his side. Yes how she loved it…Reese's hypnotic eyes got a faraway look in them, and the blue-haired demon took a long stroll through her mind, completely oblivious to the bickering taking place a few feet away.

"And remind me why I have to do this?"

Hiltz frowned, "Because we need the Zoidian girl for our plans."

"Let me rephrase that: Why do I have to?"

Hiltz nearly said because he was expendable, catching himself just in time, "Because you're the best at it."

Raven snorted, "That's a load of-"

Ambient snarled, fierce eyes narrowing at the noisy pair. The warning was not ignored and both fighters went silent for a few moments. Reese woke up from her day dream at the angry sound, returning to earth and the silenced argument, "Don't worry about it Raven. As long as you have the GenoBreaker, no one stands a chance."

"You make it sound like they would if I didn't have that chunk of metal."

The blue-haired woman jumped at the chance to prod the youngest member of their trio. It's almost like he wants to be annoyed… "Now I didn't say that. It's just that every time you've fought the Guardian Force, the odds have been in your favor. Like Van's Blade Liger could stand up to a zoid like yours?" She laughed for good measure, and then added a hefty dose of sympathy to her voice, "It just isn't fair to poor Van and his friends."

That did it. She could just see the cogs working in the little demented mind. Oh Raven, sweet child o' mine, you are sooo predictable. 

"Name a zoid and I can beat Van with it," he snarled, temper rising again.

"Alright then, it's settled," she smiled, clapping with glee, "For this little mission you'll be piloting a Command Wolf!"

"WHAT?!"

Hook, line, and sinker, "Is that too hard for whittle baby Waven?"

He knew he was trapped, they all could see it. Finally he conceded, "Alright…I'll pilot your fraggin Command Wolf and come back with your stupid girl!"

Reese's smile widened even more, her face turning into a perfect mirror of a Cheshire cat. But Raven wasn't finished.

"And I'll do it in a week."

The camp went silent. It took three days just to reach the base, and that was at a hard run. That would leave him one day for reconnaissance, planning, and executing the kidnapping job, then force him to run back full force with little chance for sleep, while carrying Fiona and being tailed by a rage-blinded Van and the Guardian Force. Flyheight would have the entire republican army on the lookout and Rudolph sending out every available imperial troop. While Command Wolves were fast, they weren't the greatest of fighters when it came to facing down huge groups. 

Raven hadn't piloted one in ages, if ever. They were republican zoids. 

Hiltz swallowed down Raven's idea, thinking quickly of a way to profit from this situation. A few things came to mind, but not before Reese dug her claws into the opportunity with the ferocity of a wildcat pouncing on her prey.

"How about a little bet?" she purred. Hook…line…

Raven hardly thought about it, "I'm listening."

And sinker.

  
  


So that was how Raven wound up on this barren wasteland, with a wager that would either earn him his freedom for a week, or land him as Reese's personal slave for seven days. 

Needless to say, he hurried along the south side of the base near one of many testing areas. Half a thought formed in his twisted brain that the whole place could be littered with land mines, and that idea was rapidly followed by images of fiery flaming death. For a while, he followed Shadow mindlessly, toying with the idea of death, his afterlife, the dark and sinister place he was bound for, and the mysteries of the universe, eventually coming to a conclusion-who cared anyway?

While preoccupied with thinking, he nearly ran into poor Shadow twice before finally reaching the monitor lined testing area that Dr. D frequented so often. The open air studying facility was the perfect place to enter the base. 

"Why the heck would they want an open testing ground anyway?" he mused, jiggling the unlocked door that led to the main base, "At the rate these guys are going you'd think that they wanted to be attacked."

Shadow nodded in agreement, tail swishing in agitation, "Rarr."

Enough talk. Let's get this over with.

Quietly, the door creaked open, and Dragon's Head base found itself host to 100% Pure Undiluted Evil™ once again.

Van was stuffed.

No, not your usual 'Oh I'm done with dinner' stuffed. Van was four whole plates stuffed. In fact, the young pilot was worried that he wouldn't be able to make it the short distance from the mess hall to his quarters. Gingerly lifting himself a few inches, he came to a conclusion. He was stuck until his stomach said otherwise.

"Oh man…"

Irvine looked up from his second helping of Moonbay's 'Desert Surprise', eyeing the four dishes warily. Scooping up a glob of the questionably colored and even more questionably tasting brown mush, he motioned towards his plate,

"Van, you know this stuff is pure toxin, right?"

The unlucky fool groaned, "Mm-hmm."

"Then why'd you eat it?!"

"My stomach! You know how my stomach is! I wasn't thinking and…ugh…I'm gonna hurl…"

On the other side of the table, Thomas was grinning, enjoying his rival's discomfort, "We always knew that gut of yours would be your downfall. We just didn't know when."

Van glared, rendered otherwise helpless by his poor poisoned tummy, "Yeah…don't rub it in…"

Irvine sighed, "I'm worried about you Van…ever since that papaya incident. What if Raven puts out a bowl of food the next time you two fight? What are you going to do then?"

The hero of the great war smiled, "Grab it and run like heck. Raven's loss."

Irvine and Thomas dumped both their plates into the trash, "Amen, brother. Amen."

"Amen to what?"

All three whirled around, Van nearly losing his dinner for the second time. Moonbay's eyes narrowed, boot tapping on the floor. And she came complete with a Teflon coated frying pan.

"Well?"

"Um…nothing."

Thomas nodded, "Yeah, just guy stuff. You wouldn't be interested."

"Really?"

Van quickly agreed, "Mm-hmm, just talking about Dr. D's latest invention. Some boosters, huh?"

"Sure," Moonbay frowned, eyes a sea of suspicion, "So how was dinner?"

All three males looked at each other, "Oh, it was great!"

"Good!" she smiled, pulling a slime-filled pot out from behind her back, "Anyone for dessert?"

But she spoke only to an empty room, with three dust clouds settling where three pilots once stood.

Angrily setting the dish on the table, she stalked out of the room. On her way, she stepped in a pile of goo that someone had hoped to hide under the table. Wiping her shoe, she left the room.

"Boosters…riiiiiight."

"Stupid, stupid, stupid, OW! Stupid, stupid, stupid, OW!"

Raven growled under his breath, dragging a bad leg behind him. Freakin' republican guards and their fraggin' guns…After running down the hall for a bit, he had all but rammed into a pair of sentries, winding up wasting valuable time dispatching them and getting shot for his stupidity in the process. So now he was crippled, bloody, heading to the other side of the base where Fiona was hopefully still in the hanger, and quickly becoming lost in the pointless maze that was the republican base.

No wonder the republic won…there's probably a few imperial armies still wandering around in here.

Shadow sniffed the air, "Grr."

"That way, huh?" he glanced down the beckoning blackness of the dark hall, "You sure?"

Another growl, nothing more. 

"Okaaaaay," he followed the organoid down the corridor. Something wasn't right, and according to the hairs on the back of his neck, he was going to find out soon.

Fiona was nervous.

Her zoidian heritage was a curse sometimes, especially when it kept her awake all night with feelings of foreboding. Rubbing her ruby eyes, she sleepily picked up her wrench, fine-tuning the joints of the Gustav. The poor thing had been in bad shape, between getting fried by Raven and going mach five into a mesa wall. Slice it any way you please, but Gustavs looked like snails for a reason.

Good thing the boosters were defective…Moonbay would be needing a lot of repairs if she kept that up for a while.

The distraction of the repairs eased the senses, and she took pleasure in ignoring the dark cloud that had been hanging over Dragon's Head. Van was right; she really did need to take some time off to relax. 

The silence of the hanger prevailed, only interrupted by the buzz of the fluorescent lights above and the sound of sleeping zoids. Checking the big digital clock hanging from the wall, 12:01 was displayed in shiny green for the world to see. Dr. D would be coming in anytime to make sure all the mechanics were off to bed, and Fiona really didn't need one of his lectures on the importance of sleep. 

Putting away her tools, she wiped grease-stained hands on a towel, patting the Gustav before turning to leave. Thoughts of a good night sleep filled her mind, pushing out the strains of fear. She had made it to the door before a wave of nausea washed over her. 

Knees buckling, she hit the floor, eyes trying to focus and failing miserably. The dark voice of memory returned, Something's coming…

"No…not again," Fiona could feel unconsciousness creeping up on her, its horrible claws drawn and ready to pounce. 

Something's coming. Something terrible is changing, you're running out of time…Always running.

Eyes closing, the world around her began to fade as it was consumed by the dreaded voice that plagued her mind. 

Run little girl, but you can't change it. Run runaway. 

Flashes of red, fiery red, and cold, blue ice filled her mind once more. There were screams, and smoke. Ashes filled the air. And through it all, only one name came to mind: Death Stinger.

The world went dark. Fiona slumped against the wall, fast asleep, her dreams filled with illusions of doom. 

That was how Dr. D found her four minutes later. When he handed her off to Van, he was shaking his old, weary head,

"I told that girl to get some sleep…"

12:02.

The clock over the cafeteria counter was blinking out its herald to the empty room, illuminating everything around it in a pale green glow. The old digital ruled its wall proudly; scratched plumage bearing battle scars of many a food fight. On one side was the famous piece of potato from the great war of 39, when a much younger Dr. D had managed to fling a spoonful of the mashed white stuff across the length of the spacey mess hall all the way to the side of the clock, hitting the 'alarm' button as he had promised. From then on, there had been no wake-up bell at four AM. 

But right now, there was no war, only a handful of trouble makers and one trio of fighters that were worth worrying about, and the cafeteria was empty, sad tables and chairs unoccupied. Or so it seemed. The clock's light, just for second, caught on a patch of shining metal, flashing the shortest of signals to the ghostly room. 

Raven jumped back out of the green glow, cursing the metal plating on his shoulders. Sure it had worked as great armor, but the shining steel had gotten him in trouble more than once. Shadow wisely stayed out of all light, his metallic body too good of a reflector to risk even going near. The mission was rapidly getting harder, with only Shadow's sense of smell and an old trail of 'Eau de Femme' to lead them along.

Let's just hope Fiona's the only chick around here that's got Van's scent on them like a bad cold…

For a brief moment, a thought invaded his brain. Wasn't that Gustav pilot a girl?

Shaking his head, he decided against it. Nah, no female could sing that out of key.

Shadow was getting close, his tail twitching in anticipation. He couldn't wait to get out of here, and the sooner they caught Fiona, the better. Besides, Raven had promised him his rations for the night if they could get in and out in a day. And that was enough for Shadow. 

They had finally crossed the barren expanse of the mess hall, Raven leading the way into the hall. Cautiously opening the door, the pair cringed at the loud creak. Peachy, not only is this place a labyrinth, but they don't grease their doors. Raven saw spots as the bright hall lights streamed into the room. By the time his eyes adjusted, it was too late…

  
  
  
  


Insult ME will you?!

While washing dishes in the kitchen, Moonbay had heard the sound of footsteps. Careful, measured footsteps that could only belong to a trained soldier, or a particularly good mercenary. And from her experience, the only carefully trained soldier in the Republic must have died a long time ago, because the yuppies she'd dealt with weren't exactly 'careful' material. So that left only one option. Irvine's gonna die...

Somewhere, in the forgotten corner of Moonbay's mind, her long abused conscience shuddered, sputtered, and was altogether suffocated by memories of Irvine's last offense. No one got away with mocking the Desert Queen's singing. 

So when the cafeteria door opened, Moonbay was ready. Snarling a war-cry, she leaped out of her hiding place. Brandishing little more than her fists and a wounded ego, she delivered the finest uppercut you ever saw before kicking the shadowy figure back into the blackness. Swinging the door wide open, she let the light shine into the room, onto the cafeteria floor where she came face to face with the oh-so-carefully aimed barrel of a shotgun. 

Once her mind registered the barrel, it didn't take long to notice the man behind it.

"R-R-Raven?!"

Eyes narrowed, stomach aching, and pride kicked to kingdom come, 'Rah Rah Raven' was ready for blood.


	2. Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pi...

Chapter 2

  
  


"And on to our next item of business, your Highness, as for the crops in the lower region of…"

Rudolph's eyes drooped dangerously low as the imperial court director droned on and on. He'd been stuck in the stuffy room for at least four hours now, and staying awake had become a problem. The dull voice of the advisor wasn't helping. Slowly, the buzz of noise faded and Emperor of all the, well, empire, fell fast asleep.

"We also have reports of bandits in Aral Plains, apparently some old members of the imperial army are still out…there…your Majesty? Are you alright?"

Rudolph jerked awake with a start, "Huh?!"

Grand Advisor Mitchell frowned, watching his young charge, "Emperor, you need to know what's going on in your kingdom. How do you expect to rule the empire properly if you can't even keep awake for one meeting?"

"If it was just one! I've been here for fifteen of them!"

"That's not a lot…on average you're supposed to be present at twenty-three, and that's on a good day." 

"Twenty…twenty-three…" Rudolph winced. I should have stuck with Van. No, wait, he amended , that would have left me feeling guilty. I should have died.

The afterlife had to be better than this. Groaning, he leaned back in the (purposefully) uncomfortable chair, preparing for the lecture that was looming over the horizon. Mitchell frowned, and crossed his arms. Haughtily, he began one of his favorite pastimes-boring the life out of everything in range. How could one man be so adamant about not wasting time and still spend a good hour blabbing about nothing in general? 

Rudolph resisted the urge to shut his eyes once again, settling instead to just watch the clock with peripheral vision. It wasn't that he didn't care about the empire, it was the fact that there were smaller government branches put in place to handle the stuff that he spent a good ten hours learning about. By the time the real meetings began, poor Rudolph could barely keep his eyes open. He'd slept through the last meeting when they were addressing the current problems with Raven and the destruction of the Lightning Saix assembly plant. At least Marianne had been there to fill him in.

He cringed, Marianne…Yet another responsibility. How the heck did they expect him to have a fiancée at his age? Even after the wedding, Marianne would only see him for about three hours a night anyway. Wait…three hours a…night…

Surprised, Mitchell watched the Emperor's face go pale. Raising an eyebrow, he waved his wrinkled hand in front of the frozen face, "Your majesty? Hello?"

Nothing. He was about to try again when an ear-splitting shriek echoed through the near-empty courtroom.

"RUDOLPH!" 

The emperor swung around. It had been weeks since someone actually used his first name. Shaking the sleep out of his eyes, he focused on the pinkish blur in front of him. Standing in the doorway was none other than Marianne. Of course, Mitchell wouldn't even let Rosso call me that…

"Rudolph, there's an emergency message from the Republic! Something's happened at Dragon's Head and-"

But he was already on his way.

In the communications room, Rudolph found a channel already open to the Republic, wiring in the latest news from Dragon's Head. Shooing Mitchell and all the advisor's protests away with a wave of his hand, he turned up the volume and typed in his access code. 

At first there was nothing but static snow. Finally the signal caught and-

"GET A FREAKIN' TEAM OUT HERE RIGHT FREAKIN' NOW BEFORE I FREAKIN' REARANGE YOUR FREAKIN' FACE!"

Irvine's face filled the screen as he shouted out what might have been a calm rational statement long ago, but had long since erupted into a shouting match. It might have been amusing under different circumstances, but something told the Emperor that there was serious business underlying all of this. Irvine rarely blew his top.

Every now and then he caught a glimpse of Van trying to butt in and drag the irate warrior off screen, but the valiant efforts went unnoticed by the much older mercenary. Fiona was somewhere behind the two, shouting for them to calm down. After about a minute of this, Van finally managed to shove Irvine out of the way long enough to wheeze out a few words,

"Moonbay was kidnapped by Raven last night, and he's-"

Rudolph nodded, cutting Van off, "I'll send out the best I've got. Just tell Irvine not to worry. We'll get his girlfriend back."

"SHE'S NOT MY GIRLFRIEND!"

But before Irvine could curse a certain fourteen year old to high heaven, Van wisely shut off the link.

For a moment, the communications staff stood still, waiting for a command from their young leader. Finally, Rudolph looked up,

"Get me Colonel Shubaltz."

  
  


"I am a… TRANSPORTER…of the WASTELAND!"

Raven wasn't going to kill her. No, he cackled insanely to himself, she was just cargo. Yeah, just another load of stuff that Reese was having him haul across the desert. Just another load…that was trying to tick him off. 

"MOOOOOONBAY…QUEEN…OF THE DESERT!"

And she was doing a great job of it.

Turning away from the console, he focused one of his better death glares on the oblivious 'Queen of the desert.' More like Queen of Hell…

"Could you shove that oversized boot down your throat before I'm forced to do it for you?"

"Hmm?" Slapping on her best 'who me?' look, she turned away from the orange-tinted view of the desert. Moonbay was enjoying this. Oh yes was she enjoying this. If she was going to be kidnapped, she was going to do it right. 

"I said that you can feel free to shut-"

"TRANSPORTER…TRANSPORTER…kay, fade out people! Transporter…transporter!"

"Cut it out already!" he roared, doing his level best to keep from shooting the smiling face, " I'm gonna kill you!"

Moonbay laughed, it was time to pull out her trump card, " Kill me, huh?"

"Yes," came the half-hissed, half-snarled reply.

"Raven, sweetie, if you were gonna kill me then you would have done it already."

He looked down, keeping his mouth shut as the Command Wolf careened down the ravine. Moonbay kept smiling.

"You need me alive, don't you?" 

If there was one thing, Raven decided, that he was going to learn from this whole deal, than it would be one simple truth,

"I hate women."

  
  
  
  


Irvine twitched nervously, bored out of his mind and under 'house arrest' in the ground-zoid hanger.

"So tell me why we can't just go after Raven now?"

Van sighed. They'd been doing this for the last hour. Waiting for Rudolph's reinforcements to arrive had been pure torture for the restless mercenary, and his trigger finger was spasming dangerously. 

"Because he might have the Genobreaker, and not even a Gogilous could stand up to that monster."

On the other side of the room, Fiona stared blankly ahead, still tired from the previous night's premonition. Her red eyes clouded sadly for what wasn't to be the last time. If only she stayed awake, she could have warned everyone. If only...no, best not to blame herself. Even if she hadn't had the vision, she still wouldn't have been able to do anything. Raven was a trained soldier, a master in the art of killing, and she still couldn't hold a gun right. More then just one person would have been hurt or dead taking down the homicidal soldier.

How can one person cause so much destruction? She wondered quietly. What exactly had he been trained to do, and why? Prozen must have had something in store for the young murderer, but that mistake was dead now. It should have been all over for everyone. Yet bases were destroyed, villages terrorized, and innocents killed. And all for what? What did Raven have to gain from all the senseless death? 

Death Stinger. 

The flashback jolted her awake. Hiltz, Reese, Raven…they were all connected with her visions. They all were fighting for something that seemed to be the apocalypse. But who was in charge? She knew it wasn't Reese. It wasn't Van's rival either. Raven had always played the part of the mindless pawn; he could care less about the government or schemes. Perhaps Hiltz? 

Or could it be-

"FI-O-NA!"

She looked up, startled, into the brown eyes of her hero. Grinning, he flicked a piece of blond hair out of Fiona's face.

"So what's the weather like on cloud nine?"

"Huh? I'm sorry," she laughed, "I guess I was just off day dreaming again."

"Kay, just try and stay on Zi…" Van grinned before walking back to where Thomas and Irvine were having a 'heated discussion' about whether brawn or speed was better, heated meaning Irvine had the colonel in a headlock and was currently beating him against the side of the Blade Liger. Taking his place on the other paw of the zoid, he scratched Zeke under the chin. Contented, the organoid forgot about the impending battle for a few moments and wagged his tail like an overgrown golden retriever. But something was amiss, and Zeke could smell it.

Behind his master's cheery façade was a worried pilot. Something was wrong with Fiona lately, ever since they had run into Reese. If she did anything…Eyes darkening, Van brooded over the various methods of Happy Fun Torture that he could inflict on the 'blue demon.' A loud clang coming from Thomas's abused head finally annoyed him enough to force him to get up and play bouncer.

When Colonel Karl Shubaltz and Dr. D entered the room, they found the three male pilots at each other's throats and destroying the hangar while Fiona stared blankly ahead, not even noticing when a socket wrench went flying past her. 

More than slightly annoyed at the obvious lack of discipline, Shubaltz calmly clicked a cartridge into his glock. Aiming carefully, he closed one eye as Dr. D suddenly realized what was going on.

"NO WAIT!"

CRACK!

Every person in the room froze, looking for the source of the shot. Thomas was the first to recover.

"Um, hey bro…"

Karl cleared his throat.

"I mean sir!"

"Thanks."

There was an awkward pause on all sides.

"So…um, Shubaltz. Long time no see, huh?"

The colonel smiled, "Yeah. A very long time, Van."

Irvine's momentary shock wore off, exposing the still-angry mercenary underneath, "Good, the cavalry's here so now we can get moving."

Thomas nodded, "Yeah, I think Dr. D's got something to show us in the briefing room, and then we're on our way, right?"

The ancient doctor grinned, "You got that right, now let's get this show on the road before I get any older."

Van grinned, "If that's possible." 

  
  


Irvine kept the group at a brisk trot all the way down the hall, nearly barreling into a squadron of trainees, sending them scattering through the hall. Following the rage blinded badger of a man; they made it to the briefing room in record time, Irvine nearly breaking down the automatic doors in an effort to hurry up.

"Okay then," Dr. D smiled in his usual happy-go-lucky way, "We've got a few things to do before we up and leave, like figure out exactly where we're going and who's coming. So first, who do we want on this little rescue mission?"

Van raised his hand, "Count me in."

Irvine nodded, "Me too."

Karl and Thomas both saluted at the same time, earning a smile from Fiona. Still grinning, she raised her hand, "I'll be going too."

"No," Van shook his head.

Angry, the blond turned on her usual friend, "What? You're leaving me behind again!" 

"Yes," he nodded, tone leaving no room for argument, " We're fighting Raven, and I want to make sure we've got a good pilot left to defend the base if we don't come back." 

"Don't even say that!" she all but shrieked, face going red, You can't just make me stay!"

Dr. D sighed, "Yes, he can. I'm backing him up on this one, Fiona. We need you to stay and help me in case of an emergency. Raven's not the only one we need to be worried about. We've got his little psycho friends to worry about."

"Who?" Thomas snorted, "Tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum? We can handle those clowns any day."

"Yeah, those clowns who sent Raven to destroy your D-Bison. Don't underestimate Reese and Hiltz," Van frowned, still watching Fiona, "Both are just as good as Raven, if not better."

Karl nodded, "Besides, the Stinger person that tried to kill you broke out of jail last week."

"What!?"

Irvine cursed, banging his fist on the console, "We don't have time for this! We can deal with that loser any day. Fiona, we're leaving you behind and that's that. Next time you can tag along. NOW LET'S GET MOVING!"

Storming past his companions, he snatched a map off one of the desks before kicking the doors open and all but sprinting down the hall. Van shrugged and followed, shouting a 'wait for me!' Thomas wasn't far behind. Eventually the remainder of the room filed out, leaving just Shubaltz and Fiona behind. Before the soldier left, Fiona tugged on his sleeve.

"What is it?"

"Um, Lieutenant, I hope you don't mind me asking, but how did you get here so fast? It takes hours for a ground zoid to cross the desert."

"Oh, that?" He smiled, "I was wondering when someone would notice. I took a storm sworder."

"You pilot flying zoids!"

"No, not really, someone else flew. You've got plenty of Iron Kong's here for me to use, so I don't really need to take the extra time. Besides, the pilot who was flying seemed like he wanted to come along anyway."

"Oh…"

He was already out the door before she asked her last question, "Who flew you?"

"Uh…he's just a newbie. Kinda short, actually. He's still here if you want to talk to him."

"Thanks!" she called. Inwardly, she was grinning. Try to leave her behind?

Phht.

  
  
  
  


(A/N) Kay, major thanks to Orange Girl Explosion for looking this over. And, in my time-honored tradition, I will now shamelessly plug for her stories. She's got some of the best zoids fics out there, and if you haven't read them already, you should.

  
  



	3. When the pie was opened, the birds began...

Chapter 3

It was a veteran lizard, a little creature used to attacks by air, land, and even sea. It had survived the years, reaching the ripe age of three. These days, the old hero had taken to roaming the empty desert plains and sunning itself on red sandstones or hanging under the mottled shade of sagebrush. Today, though, it was lazily foraging for a meal in the hot desert. Claws dancing over the sands, it pranced towards a particularly good looking cricket, only to be ripped from the soil and into the air by the bigger talons of a dragon. Stunned, the reptile didn't have time to react before it met its end under the great paw of a zoid. 

The loss of the lizard went unnoticed as the Command Wolf continued on its merry way, following one of the many ravines to their hiding place on the edge of Elmina Desert. The faded blue paint, momentarily tarnished by lizard guts, stood out like a sore thumb, another one of Reese's additions to make Raven's life hell. At the moment, Reese didn't even have to try. Moonbay was doing an excellent job on her own.

"Geez Raven, you suck at piloting this thing."

Raven had long ago assumed a stoic, 'Drop dead' outlook on life. It was his last defense against this horror of horrors. He'd run out of witty remarks the night before, and now that dawn's rays were giving way to the afternoon sun, he wasn't faring any better. Moonbay had driven him to the edge, and his hand was on the proverbial trigger. Or perhaps literally if the vile thing wouldn't shut up. 

It had been late that night that he had first made the unnerving discovery of his mistake. After the orange coated Queen of Bad Punk Rock had succeeded in a sucker-punch straight to the formerly undisputed lord of the fighting rink's gut, he had managed to get a good grip around the bare midriff and drag her out kicking and screaming to the Command Wolf. 

His hands were in worse condition then before. Already scarred beyond recognition, they were now recovering from what he firmly believed to be a rabies infected bite mark. Moonbay had managed to get away with a good chunk of skin and glove in the wild fight to the zoid. Shadow had finally managed to 'subdue' her with a tail-smack to the head. 

At about the same time Dragon's Head realized that their favorite transporter of the wasteland had vanished, Raven began to notice some obvious differences between who he knew to be Fiona and the monster that had been tied to the second chair of Reese's hand-me down zoid.

First, Fiona was most definitely blond, second, Fiona was quiet, and third, Fiona, despite the fact that she was from another race, was remarkably more human than Moonbay. 

After getting about an hour into the desert, Moonbay had decided to recount her entire life story to Raven, not sparing any detail. Four hours later, she had launched into her favorite song, and from then out Raven's screwy mind had decided to pack up and head out to that happy special space somewhere in the land of imagination. 

In Raven's case, that meant absolutely nowhere.

Shadow had been going cross country, trekking along next to the obnoxious blue paint job. Every now and then, he'd raise his scaly head to the cockpit, wondering silently about the ear-splitting noise that seemed to seep out of the orange tinted glass like sewage from a broken pipe.

"TRANSPORTER! OF THE WASTELAND!"

"MOONBAY!"

"Heeey, you used my first name!"

Raven's eye twitched, "Listen, two things: Shut. Up. Can you understand that?"

Moonbay pretended to think about it, "Nope."

Raven raised his eyes skyward, but the heavens offered few answers on this blazing afternoon, "Hey, Moonbay."

"Wow, he speaks."

Raven ignored the comment, "I need you alive, right?"

She looked intrigued, "Mm-hmm. What about it?"

"But do I need you in one piece?"

She froze. The possibility hadn't even crossed her mind, and for the first time in the last four hours, she was silent. Raven could do anything he wanted, as long as it didn't kill her. The first tendrils of fear began to seep into her innards, and the squishy feeling was rapidly gaining ground. The panic button had been pressed.

"Now that I've got your attention, let me elaborate."

It gets worse, she wondered, still horrified.

"I don't need you, per say. I need your buddy's little girl-friend."

"Fiona," she breathed. Of course, Fiona! What had she been thinking? Like Raven and his band of buddies really needed little ol' her for anything. Though her outward ego was something to be feared, inside she had a pretty good grasp of where she stood on the Ladder of Importance, and it was somewhere between the bottom rung and the floor.

So all along it had been Van's 'little girl-friend,' and now Moonbay only had one thing to say, "Oh. I'm screwed, aren't I?"

Raven smirked at the pale pallor of Moonbay's face. Oh how he loved scaring the life out of people! The terrifying look of realization on their faces, the feeling of fear radiating off them, and above all, the defeated and forlorn way they would sigh and tremble in the face of power. Yes...how he loved (and hated) it.

"Yup."

Moonbay looked around, desperate for some way of escape from the evil that was charging her Fed-ex Express to an even worse fate, when she saw her opportunity. Long ago, when they were both very young, Irvine had taught her one of the many tricks of escape. 

When tied behind a zoid pilot, there's always a sort of kamikaze trick to pull, provided you could kick higher than your opponents shoulders. It was a feat Irvine wouldn't be pulling off in his lifetime. Drawing her knees back, she pretended to be curling up into a blubbering ball of female in the back. Raven seemed contented, and turned back to the controls.

"Perfect," whispered Moonbay, and before Raven even saw what was coming, the amber-eyed beauty unleashed a kick that would have sent Jackie Chan into an early grave. Unfortunately for her, she hadn't exactly been stretching out lately, and the hit fell short of her target-Raven's neck. Instead, it smacked straight into the thick, metal shoulder plating. 

A sickening crack echoed in the small cockpit, Moonbay wouldn't be walking on her right foot for awhile. Raven jerked sharply to the right, dragging the console, the Command Wolf, and poor, unprepared Shadow with him. A less experienced pilot would have crashed into a blackened smear at the bottom of the canyon, but his training became painfully evident to the incapacitated transporter when he managed to bring the ancient, abused Command Wolf back on the cliff without skipping a beat.

She nearly passed out when she felt the zoid make the sharpest u-turn she would ever experience, and come to a rubber-burning, claw trimming stop. 

"What're you doing, ya psycho!"

Raven didn't answer, but when she saw his profile for a split second, there was something clearly emanating from the gray eyes that she had never seen, and would never see again. Sorrow, grief, worry, anger, and hopelessness all mixed together in an emotional torrent that seemed entirely out of place with the stoic pilot.

Confused and lost beyond reason, Moonbay watched Raven all but rip through the hood, vault over the side and disappear in a self-made sandstorm after smacking the ground. She saw his silhouette coming from the dust, but the ropes tying her prevented the freaked-out girl from following her captor's path any farther. There were sounds of scraping gravel, and a low growl, but the heavy roar of the over-heating zoid drowned out everything else.

So Moonbay just sat there for a moment, silently baking in the oven of the cockpit, eventually uttering one phrase that would sum up her entire mental monologue.

"What the heck?"

It was after few minutes of staring at the panoramic view of the cliff side next to the Command Wolf that she realized something. Hadn't Shadow been following along to their right?

  
  


Van made a last minute run over his Blade Liger, tightening the eternally loose bolt on the infamous machine's left leg. He was beginning to think about getting the piece of machinery replaced, but his salary of GF leader and hero didn't pay the best. Pretty sad once you thought about it.

Irvine was still itching to go, and the Lightning Saix would have a hard time slowing its pace to make room for the slower D-Bison and Iron Kong. Van looked up where Irvine was pacing, muttering various plans of decapitation for Raven. Make that a very, very, hard time.

It was about time to go, with Thomas firing up the D-Bison, and Irvine already out on the track. Karl was running over the final checklist when a helmeted pilot half-ran, half-sprinted into the room, skidding to a halt in front of the colonel. Van squinted his eyes. He didn't recognize the short boy, or the strange flight suit. He was obviously an air squadron kid, but Van didn't remember seeing him with the others. And he had met almost the entire air staff in the storm sworder incident. 

Aside from that, all the republican fighters had been wearing standard uniform, nothing like the jumpsuit that completely covered this one, and the helmet masking half the boy's face was unusual. Curious, he watched the small fighter say a few words to the colonel, nod his head and take off down the hall as fast as he had come. 

"Well that explains it," he muttered, beginning his own initiation sequence. The kid must be an imperial. Van shook off the feeling that something didn't add up. He didn't have time to be worrying about the age requirements of the empire's air force.

"Alright Zeke," he grinned, enjoying the familiar phrase, "Let's mobilize!"

And so Van joined his waiting team members, organoid not far behind and Raven not far ahead…

Fiona wandered the halls quietly. The trip to the air-hanger was a long one (it was on the far side of the base) which left plenty of time for plotting. She needed to think her plan through carefully, manipulating imperial pilots wasn't exactly something she did on a regular basis. In fact, she didn't do much manipulating at all, despite Moonbay's claims about her 'working the Zoidian magic' on Van. 

Van…the thought brought her back full circle to the reason why she had started with this crazy idea. Why did he insist on leaving her behind on every important mission? She was capable of handling everything he could. Underneath all her logical thinking though, the soft squishy part of her heart was crying out like a child lost in the supermarket. It wasn't the fact that Van didn't seem to think she was capable, it wasn't that he left her behind, it was the fact that he left her alone. Pure and simple, she was lonely. 

So now she was walking down the hallway (hopefully) leading to the air hanger, on the off-chance that a certain imperial pilot might still be there, and might have enough heart to fly her on a dangerous and definitely unauthorized mission into territory that was owned solely by nature and her more devious misfits.

Taking her pace up a notch, she wandered over to one of the rare maps that lined the walls. Looking over it quickly, she came to a horrifying discovery. She'd been going in circles. Why did these bases have to be so unbelievably complicated? Sighing, she mentally mapped out her course, remembering every turn from here to the hangar. While doing so, though, she didn't notice the fast-moving, 'I'm coming through so you better start running or get out of the way,' ball of normally calm energy barreling through the hall straight for the oblivious Zoidian.

The collision was a magnificent one, a combination of speed, flair, sheer idiocy, pilot, chick, and quite possibly destiny. Fiona went one way, and her assaulting another, both landing in a tangled mess on their respective sides of the hallway. Red eyes seeing spots, she finally was able to see through the blurs enough to figure out what exactly had rammed her. Fiona was pretty sure that it was a semi, but she wasn't ruling out the possibility of train. She was wrong on both counts.

The shortest soldier she had ever seen was across the hall from here, rubbing an obviously hurting and covered head. He wasn't from around the base, his uniform reeking of imperialism. The orange visor completely obscured all his upper facial features, leaving only his mouth and nose visible. He was the first to stand up, and the first to apologize. Muttering an 'I'm sorry', he turned…and froze. The momentary hesitation reminded Fiona of someone...the way he carried himself, the height, the face…But before she could place the familiar figure, he quickly shook his head.

He held out a hand to help Fiona up, "I didn't mean to knock you down…I'm just in a bit of a hurry."

"Oh, that's okay. I'm sure it wasn't on purpose," accepting the gesture, she let him pull her up. It must have made a comical scene. The kid was about five inches shorter than her, and about the same build if not skinnier. Surprisingly, the thin frame had to be packing some muscle under the uniform; he helped the older and heavier person without what looked like too much effort.

"So, uh, where are you going?"

Fiona sighed, "I'm supposed to be at the air hanger, but I got lost. I've been here for almost a year and still don't know where everything is."

"Yeah, that's the old republican style. Make it so confusing that even your own can't find you."

Definitely imperial, she thought, noting the slight accent. There wasn't too much of a difference between the two governments, but the smallest of voice inflictions could tell you what side they were from. It was particularly obvious with this one. Not to mention the comment on 'republican' building.

"You know," he said turning down the hall, "I'm headed to the hanger. Maybe we could help each other find it? I'm probably as lost as you."

Fiona nodded, "Offer accepted."

"Thanks…So is it left or right?"

"Left."

After about five minutes of walking, Fiona noticed something else, other than height, about her strange companion. He walked different. Very different. She'd seen many an imperial in her day, but only a few with a gait like that. Among them were Prozen, a few dignitaries, herself (though she didn't know it) and Prince Rudolph …but Prozen was dead, the dignitaries twice the height of this boy, and Rudolph was no longer a prince and far away in Guylos, probably bored to tears in one meeting or another. 

Marianne and Fiona had kept up something of a pen-pal thing. After meeting each other a while back, they'd formed a fast friendship and had been writing ever since. Marianne seemed worried about her future husband. 

Rudolph was holding up under the pressure better then expected, but no child should have to deal with an entire country. Besides that, the little empress in training had overheard a few interesting conversations between Rudolph and his advisors. From what she knew, the whole lot were power-hungry untrusting politicians, among a few more colorful words that the emperor had muttered behind closed (and hopefully not bugged) doors. 

In short, the situation in the empire could easily boil over if not attended to reaaaaal quick.

Within minutes of careful guiding and some shaky memory on both parts, the two had made it to the air hanger, near the famous runway that had launched Rosso and Viola's storm sworders so long ago.

"Thanks for the help," he waved as he trotted over to what was easily the largest zoid in the hanger: a huge, silvery, storm sworder. Fiona froze. 

Imperial uniform, imperial accent, imperial looks, and imperial zoid. Plus the fact that he had shown up the day that Karl had, and was leaving right when Karl was heading out in his 'borrowed on credit' Iron Kong. For the first time in a long while, Fiona felt that she had experienced a 'major blond moment.' Taking off like a shot, she started shouting frantically at the retreating back of her only ticket out of there.

Slowing, the pilot turned to nearly get about one-hundred pounds of female dropped on him. He swerved just in time, letting Fiona slow to a safer stop.

"Sorry about that, but I need to know. Are you the pilot who flew Karl Shubaltz out here?"

"Um, yes," he looked confused.

Alright Fiona, she mentally cheered, let's get this right, "I was wondering. You see I need to get a ride out of here and…"

  
  


All it took was three minutes of 'convincing' to get Fiona from the hangar floor to the second seat in the cockpit of the zoid. He was going to fly Fiona as close to the battle as he could without getting seen. And from what she'd heard from the air crews as they prepped the bird for flight, he was a pretty decent pilot. 

"So they left you behind on accident?"

She nodded, "Yeah, and I can't catch up in a ground zoid."

"Hmm…strange that they'd forget a teammate," even though he had agreed to take her along, he still seemed a little skeptical.

The blond felt a little guilty about her little white lie, but ignored it, "Irvine was in a hurry…"

"Yeah, guess so."

Fiona found that there was a lot more preparation involving flying zoids then with ground. There were all the extra worries about oxygen, landing gears, wings, jets, weather, possible flight paths, and navigation. Especially in a large zoid like a storm sworder. The metallic flying machine had been equipped with a co-pilot's seat, which her chauffeur said he usually flew on more dangerous missions. After about twenty minutes of getting ready, the two got the okay from the air control tower, and were taxing onto the runway. 

"Um, Miss Fiona, you might want to brace yourself."

"Why?" she looked over his shoulder at the clear afternoon sky.

"The runway is the fastest, but it's kinda rough."

"Kind of?"

He frowned, "You'll see."

And in a few seconds, she did see. She saw with about three G's pressing down on her and the zoid almost perpendicular to the ground in a stomach wrenching climb upward. 

  
  


Reese was bored. No, wait, she was beyond that. She was in the 'going comatose' section of bored. Her favorite game (Let's see how fast Reese can make Raven go homicidal!) had been stripped away, and Hiltz was remarkably less fun to tease and torment. He either ignored her or said he'd 'take her comments into consideration.' No sarcasm, no exchange of witty remarks, and no glorious bloodbath.

Her days had been reduced to training, waiting for news from Raven, waiting for Raven, and testing Specula's skills on squirrels. All of which being quality entertainment of course. So when Hiltz had started packing up at least three days before Raven was due, she was naturally curious.

"Um, Hiltz, what exactly are you doing?"

"What's it look like?" he replied blandly.

"Leaving?"

"Exactly."

Reese was starting to get annoyed, "Where are you going?"

He looked up, an unnatural smile on his face, "Gigalos."

"What?"

"I have business there," he slung the pack of equipment over his shoulder, motioning for Ambient, "Tell Raven I'm on an errand if he gets back."

"You mean when," she replied automatically.

Hiltz raised an eyebrow, "I mean if. Are you feeling well Reese, or do you actually think that he's going to make it?"

She didn't answer, not directly anyway, "I'll tell him."

"Whatever," Hiltz took one long look around the pitiful camp, "Be back soon, I've got some politicians to bother."

"Politicians?"

He started walking down the mesa top to the trail, hesitating to answer. It was Hiltz's turn to be indiscreet, "See you later, Reese."

With that he was gone. Reese didn't move for a while, staring after him. Finally she shook her head and scratched Specula behind the horns, "What does he have planned?"

But the blue organoid remained silent.

  
  


(A/N) Thanks to the reviewers who pointed out the rank problems of 'Lt. Thomas' and 'Colonol Karl,' you know who you are. Sorry to all you confused chillun out there.


	4. Was it not a tasty dish to set before th...

Chapter 4

  
  


Not since the short-lived reign of Emperor Prozen had such a dark-hearted mastermind dared to try and enter the highest chamber of the Imperial Court. Hiltz quietly admired the workmanship of the citadel, noting the several gun turrets lining the towers and the all too obvious guards. The Guylos architects had outdone themselves on this, with the thick, reinforced outer walls, the fully functional training grounds within, and the famous zoid hangars housing some of the empires finest soldiers and war machines. 

Though you couldn't see it from the southeast entrance, there were also several fields in the back, designed to help against siege tactics. Long ago, it had been built by Scalea Peytrivol as a sort of ultimate stronghold against the republic. Century after century it had proved its worth during the long years that it stood against the republic army. Thanks to its thick, unyielding walls and innovative water and food stores, no one could take it. Even during the rampage of the Death Saur, citizens hiding there told that the charged particle cannon didn't break through. 

Today though, it had lost most of its former majesty. After the completion of the current Imperial palace it had been changed to a sort of safe house in case of emergency, and was used as the home of the courts. Sort of a Guylos version of Capital Hill. But Hiltz wasn't here to sight-see. He was here to violently usurp the throne. 

Waltzing to the gates like he owned the place, he nodded to the confused guards, demanding an audience with the emperor. At first the two protested, but when Ambient came screeching down like a comet tearing through one's jugular, the other soon changed his mind. Too bad he was already being torn apart at the time…

"That'll do, Ambient. That'll do."

  
  


Marianne adjusted Rudolph's robes, glancing at herself in the mirror. It had taken a lot of work, but the end result was amazing. Staring back at her was an almost exact copy of the emperor. 

"Unbelievable what a new hair-cut can do," she mused, taking a few steps before spinning around. Frowning, Marianne went up on her toes. She was still too short, and her voice…she didn't want to think about it. How come Rudolph had to drop a few octaves last year anyway?

Shrugging it off, she walked over to a desk filled with paperwork. Part of her plan involved her doing all of Rudolph's work, whether it was sitting through meetings, signing pages, or deciding where to send out the military. If Rudolph could handle it, then how hard could it be?

Picking up the first page, she nearly choked, "If party A demands a reduction in policy number thirty seven, then would party 38D need to pay for the damages, or would (according to section twelve) party 26B be held responsible and thereby…What?"

She was hopelessly lost and knew it. Though she may be able to look the part, she would never be able to remember all of Rudolph's instructions on how to handle the paperwork, much less Advisor Mitchell. After all, he'd managed to whisper about ten pages worth of words in half a minute last night. Sinking into the chair, she picked up the next page, hoping for something simpler. No such luck.

Scrambling her brains to remember what he had said, faint memories of the night before ran through her mind…

"Rudolph."

He froze, caught red handed. Climbing back in through the window, he held his hands up in surrender.

Marianne sighed from the doorway where she was tapping her slippered foot, looking the epitome of angry housewife, "You were sneaking out again, weren't you?"

Looking down at the old flight suit and setting his trademark helmet back down on the desk next to the piles of papers he was supposed to be going through, he nodded sheepishly. Marianne suppressed a giggle. Right now, the emperor of Guylos looked like her kid brother caught playing in her mother's rose garden. Keeping a stern face, she put her hands on her hips, just like Aunt Karen told her too. 

"Why?"

Rudolph sighed, "Moonbay was kidnapped and…uh, I wanted to help?"

Whatever Marianne had expected that wasn't it, "WHAT?!"

Glancing around quickly, he shook his head violently, "Shhh! There's guards outside the door, they'll hear you!"

Marianne nodded, keeping her hand over her mouth. Rudolph was satisfied and continued his explanation, "Listen, I'm going to fly Karl Shubaltz down to Dragon's Head tonight. No one else is available to fly until next week, and by then it could be too late."

Marianne nodded, the cogs in her head working quickly, "But what will Mitchell say? You'll never make it back before tomorrow."

Rudolph nodded, worried, "I know, I'll just have to make something up."

"No, wait," a grin spreading across her face, Marianne began to formulate a plan, "I've got a better idea…"

  
  


Marianne had decided to play the part of the emperor until Rudolph returned. They were close in height (or at least they were two years ago) and she knew most of the etiquette. Her upbringing left her with a basic idea of how the empire ran. After all, she had said, how hard could it be? But that had been last night, when the flavor of intrigue was still strong. The next morning had left her with a headache and bad aftertaste. Kind of like a hangover.

Getting a five minute briefing on a lifetime's learning of royal protocol and politics, she remembered as much as she could before sending her fiancée on his way to the hanger. Unfortunately, 'as much as she could' wasn't that much at all. High on adrenaline and more than a few hours past your bedtime isn't the best time to test your memory skills. 

Taking another dubious glance at the paperwork, she frowned, "Well…might as well get started…"

"Whee…" 

Moonbay sighed, broken foot propped up on the dashboard, keeping herself occupied by playing with her hair. 

Raven had been gone for what seemed to be forever now, and personally she didn't like baking in the hot sun with nothing to do. There was no one to annoy, her throat was too dry to sing (didn't Raven give his prisoners water?), and her now bad leg needed medical attention, the throbbing pain not comforting in the least. 

Though she hated to admit it, attacking the obviously better-than-your-average-bandit wasn't her brightest idea. She couldn't even hotwire the ancient bucket of bolts, the control panel was apparently specially made to keep out beautiful women in their efforts to escape. How Raven had managed that was still a mystery. At least she'd gotten him out of her immediate presence, but what good was that when you couldn't even walk? And if he didn't come back…she wasn't in the mood to finish the thought.

Moonbay didn't want to die slow, and starvation was about as slow as it gets. Sinking even lower in the chair she closed her eyes, letting the sweat run down her face. Could heat stroke kill a person? Stupid stupid stupid…

For a moment she sat like that, repeating the single word like a mantra. But the back of her eyelids didn't provide the entertainment or rescue that she wanted. Resisting the urge to just roll over and go paws up, she glared at the shiny instruments on the dashboard. Maybe she missed something…maybe there was still a chance of getting the stubborn Zoid up and running again…

Creasing her brow again, she leaned forward, gingerly removing her foot from the controls. 

"Okay, you stubborn little son of a-"

"Do you insult inanimate objects on a regular basis, or is this new?"

Whirling around (a bad move according to her leg), Moonbay felt her faintest shred of hope scream and faint at the none-too pleasant face smirking at her. Said hopeful piece performed Asian suicide when a very displeased organoid popped up from behind Raven. 'Displeased' meaning homicidal. Shadow had not gotten his nap…

"Look who I found at the bottom of the canyon."

"Um…whoops?"

Moonbay tried to look innocent.

"Sic her."

  
  


Stinger, the slightly effeminate plague of the seven and a half deserts, was displeased. The glass of beer in front of him seemed to share the same sentiment and was showing this by trying it's hardest to imitate a cup of oil.

Behind the famous hunter were his usual goons, both of them in much better spirits and in the company of a rather buxom brunette with three tumblers of the amber petroleum to share. Sadly, messing around with the local females had lost its flair for Stingy, and even his recent bout of jail-breaking couldn't cheer him up. A pale pallor seemed to have fallen over the man, and nothing seemed to be able to brush it away. Let Zi know that his minions had tried, using the usual tactics, but the hunter didn't show any interest. Eventually the pair had given up and went back to cheering themselves up without their 'stalwart leader.'

You see, Stinger had been smeared across the desert by a pre-adolescent and a strange little Zoid that had just finished going from caterpillar to butterfly. Not only that, but he'd been laughed at by a member of the fairer sex, severely insulted by a scruffy mercenary, lost his oh-so manly pink artillery to said Zoid, and then had been thrown in jail by a spoiled rotten brat with access to an army. Not the best note to end your career on. And it was looking like Stingers illustrious past as one of the best warriors of the desert was defiantly down the tube. Not a single person wanted to hire a wimp who was kicked by a kid, regardless of the kid's status as 'world saving hero.' 

So now he was nearly cashless, pining for his long lost zoid, and stuck in a little hole in the wall bar with nothing to do but watch his partners try to score with the locals and fail miserably. Flipping his hair over his shoulder, he snorted to himself. Alas, not everyone could have his charm. Frowning, he went back to sipping the unholy brew and half listening to the country 'music' playing over the radio. Emphisis on the '' around music.

"SHE LEEEEFT MEEEEEEEEEEEE…for that floozy in the DOUG-oooo-OOOOOH-NUT SHOP! YEAH!"

There was the whining sound of catgut being tormented as the fiddle did a quick and sloppy imitation of 'the Devil went down to Georgia' before ending on a note just as sour as the rest of song. Stinger's eardrums involuntarily praised whatever deity that had deserted him. The rest of him, however, went right on moping. Until a particularly interesting announcement caught his attention, and by 'caught' we mean grabbed, beat, and pounded it across the bar.

"Alrighty then," the heavily accented voice floated through the speakers, "We interrupt this program to bring y'all this announcement. Accordin' to the Emperor of Guylos, 'is Royal Majest-whatsit there's another dangerous critter on the prowl. It's that Raven guy again. We'd like to inform you that this Zoid pilot is presumed armed and dangerous, so keep your rifle close. Next, a transporter pilot has gone missin' too, so be on the lookout for a Miss Moonbay."

Stinger's drink flew several feet, splattering against the wood walls. He didn't really listen to the description that followed (after all, how many Moonbays could there be?) before promptly grabbing his cohort's by the ears and dragging them away from the grateful redhead. 

"Wha?" Lackey numero uno looked unhappy to say the least, "Hey boss, what's going on!"

"Yeah!" The other one growled, "We were just about to get her too!"

The slightly demented gleam in Stinger's eye shut them up rather quickly. The evil laughter worked even faster. So as the trio was dragged into the desert the only thing that was said sounded suspiciously like 'revenge' and 'butterfly.'

And when those two words are coupled together, it goes without saying that trouble is brewing on the horizon.

  
  


Moonbay didn't say anything as Raven ripped off another stretch of duct tape. The look on his face coupled with the hungry gleam in Shadow's eyes told everyone present that Raven was in charge for the moment and it was only through his good grace that the world could turned for another day. More importantly, the reason that Moonbay would be living to see this next day was because the quintessentially evil pilot could afford her to.

Of course, this didn't make the braid wearing transporter any less nervous. In fact, she was in the curl-up-and-die stage of fear and didn't feel like leaving it for any particular reason. Sadly, the now-crowded backseat of such a small zoid didn't leave any room for curling up and Raven's glare didn't leave any room for dying so her needs would simply have to wait.

Besides, watching her captor patch her up was more amusing than it rightly should be. With little more than duct tape and one of Reese's trademark blue jackets (she didn't know how it had gotten under the chair and wasn't asking) for bandage material he was doing a marvelous job patching up her broken foot and recently gnawed-on legs. Technically it was his fault that she was almost eaten alive. Despite the wounds being mostly superficial, (the only serious injury was her broken foot), Shadow had done an excellent job scaring her to the point where she would do almost anything for Raven to call the psychotic mess of wires off.

But now the organoid was happily munching on some of the local critters (stuffed with lead courtesy of Raven) and Moonbay was curiously watching Raven's more unusual methods of curing bite wounds. Apparently, duct tape really *was* the be-all, cure-all of the modern era…

"You realize you brought this on yourself," Raven growled, twisting around more tape for the splint on Moonbay's foot, "If I didn't find Shadow you'd be a smear on the canyon floor right about now."

Moonbay didn't doubt it. 

"And secondly, no more trying to kill me. If you hadn't noticed I have this nasty habit of coming back."

She nodded. That much was obvious, "I'll be a good girl, I promise."

"I'm sure."

Glancing at his handiwork, Raven yawned. Now that he thought about it, this would make it his second day without sleep. Glaring at the setting sun, he came to the even worse conclusion that he'd nearly wasted an entire day searching for Shadow (who had been finally found hanging from a withered tree root with one of his wings damaged beyond Raven's current means of repair and about to plummet to his doom).

That left him almost a day behind in his plans. He'd have to run through the night to catch up, something he wasn't looking forward. Contrary to popular belief, homicidal maniacs needed rest too. He was pretty sure any further escapades from his captive would lose him the bet, a fate he didn't want to think about. So it was with great relish that Moonbay found her hands and legs being mummified and then attached to the command wolf. The pilot would not have a repeat of Moonbay the martial artist.

Night came quickly, the sun setting behind a mesa in one of those beautiful scenes that could inspire the ages. But Moonbay was too busy watching Raven and Raven was too busy coming to a rather shocking (and dangerous) conclusion.

Reese's blue smock was ruined, with several chunks torn off and bloody beyond any dry cleaners ability to mend. Raven sighed, holding up the remains in the dying light, realizing a little too late what he had done. Moonbay looked mildly surprised as Raven's glare was quite suddenly replaced with a greenish grimace, "Great, just…great."

"What?"

Raven looked visibly ill, "I hope you're happy. Now Reese is going to kill both of us. The last time anyone messed with her clothes there was a massacre."

"M-massacre?"

"It involved some assembly plant."

"You mean that Lightning Saix factory was because of her?"

"Yep. I only came in to bring her back. Wound up blowing the whole thing up though…"

There was a rather awkward silence.

"You know," Moonbay ventured helpfully, "I think it looks sort of…stylish."

"For both our sakes," Raven gave her a pointed glare, "Reese better agree with you."

There was an audible gulp, "Yeah, rags are all the rage this season."

"Don't the new republican uniforms have the whole 'faded' look?"

"Only if they're Van's, but that goes without saying," Moonbay snickered to herself.

"I'm pretty sure that Emperor brat shred some of the old imperial robes…"

"Weren't they laced with anthrax?"

"A minor detail." 

Lazily munching on the remains of several desert rodents far below, Shadow yawned. He was about to shut down for a while, when he suddenly found his sensors were no longer picking up the strange grating noise from the ridiculous blue zoid's cockpit. In fact, he was quite pleased to find that it was being replaced by a completely different sound: laughter.

  
  
  
  


(A/N 'The Devil went down to Georgia' is an old fiddle song that is both very fast and very cool if played properly, emphasis on 'if.')


End file.
